From a magical perspective, demons and ghosts liked to eat virgin boys and girls because freshly kindled souls were the purest. They had not been contaminated by the various forces drifting through the mortal world, nor had they lost any of their soul's original power. They were easy to digest and substantial in quantity—who wouldn't like that?
Clones were the same. Though they appeared to possess decades of memories, those memories were false, implanted by scientists. In truth, they were souls that had only just been born and kindled, as pure as infants.
Ancestor God was practically stuffed sick by this.
This was no longer primitive society, where one could perform a miracle and have people offer up heaps of virgin boys and girls. Normally, if he wanted a decent meal, he had to make his followers sneak into the streets and kill addicts, lest his already scarce followers end up in prison.
Martin's mother had been one of Ancestor God's most capable subordinates. Even in demon-infested Mexico, that lady had been exceptionally brazen, and Ancestor God had lived quite well at her side.
But things were not so good by Martin's generation. Martin had come too late; Gotham had already become a society ruled by law. Gordon cracked down harshly on cult-related crimes, and Martin had to carefully cover even his tattoos to avoid being swept up in anti-gang operations.
Martin was not as devout as his mother, nor was he so dependent on the power Ancestor God granted him. He felt that as long as that power could protect him, it was enough. He could earn money through business himself, so at most, during holidays, he would find a dying homeless man to give Ancestor God a little snack.
Martin had not been entirely lying when he said